Sebastian POV
the
Her body shifts against me, her movements fluid and deliberate as she straddles me. Her hands find their way into my hair, tangling themselves as her lips meet mine in a brated kiss, I can feel the fire radiating from her, the desire that burns just beneath her skin. My hands glide along; her sides, trailing over the soft curve of her body, warmth of her flesh igniting a fire of my own. Myn
nose brushes against her neck, and I inhale deeply, taking in her scent. It’s subtly different now, richer, more Intoxicating. A smile tugs at my lips. Her wolf. She doesn’t realize it yet, but her scent has changed, signaling the deepening connection between her and her wolf. If I tell her later, I know she’ll brush it off, unwilling or unable to accept the truth.
Last night wasn’t how I envisioned our first time. I wanted her to feel safe, comfortable, and ready. But the need was and is undeniable, both hers and mine. Her wolf craves this, and denying her would only make it worse. At least, after this, her heat will subside, and she’ll find some relief.
Her body moves against me, and I feel her slowly lower herself onto my shaft. A low groan escapes me as my hands slide down her body, gripping the firm curve of her ass. My fingers dig into her skin as I guide her movements, lifting her and pulling her down in a steady rhythm.
Her cries fill the room, echoing off the stone walls as her pleasure builds. Her hands tighten in my hair, her nails lightly scratching my scalp. I bury my face in her neck, groaning as the urge to claim her pulses through me. My lips trace along the sensitive skin of her neck, and I fight the primal need to mark her.
Last night, the temptation had been nearly unbearable. Today, it’s less overwhelming, though still present. I almost claimed her. The thought lingers, heavy and sharp. It would have been wrong–too soon, too fast. We haven’t spoken about it, about us. I have no idea if she’s ready to be claimed, and to take that choice from her would be unforgivable.
As her movements quicken, I match her pace, my hips thrusting upward in time with her rhythm. My hands guide her, lifting and pulling her down as the tension within me coils tighter. Her head falls back, her neck arched and exposed. I take the opportunity to kiss and nip at her skin, the taste of her making it harder to resist the primal urge to claim her.
Her soft whimpers turn to cries as her body tightens around me, pulling me closer to the edge. My release follows hers, a powerful wave that leaves my body trembling as I spill into her. My head falls against her neck, and I groan, the sound muffled by her skin. The scent of her surrounds me, grounding me, calming me.
For a moment, we remain still, her body wrapped around mine as the heat between us begins to ebb. My breathing slows, and I shift slightly. The adjustment isn’t much, but it allows me to extend my cock size slightly–a dragon’s approximation of knotting. It’s the closest I can come to easing the primal urges she feels during her heat.
I brush a hand along her back, stroking her soothingly as she rests against me. “We need to talk,” I murmur, my voice soft but firm. “There’s a lot to sort out here. It will take a few days to clear everything up–finding a new alpha for the pack, ensuring the wolves are happy, and sending word to the King of the Werewolves about what happened.”
She shifts slightly, settling into me as my hand continues to trace gentle patterns along her skin. Her body relaxes, but I can see the thoughtful look in her eyes.
“Do you have any ideas about who would make the best alpha here?” I ask, curious about her insight.
Her lips curve into a small, delicate smile, though I catch a hint of sadness in her expression. “Ryan,” she whispers, her voice soft but certain.
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Giving It To Her
I tilt my head, watching her closely. “Ryan?”
Her eyes flicker with emotion as she explains. “He was the alpha of his last pack. From what I heard, his mate and baby died during childbirth. He couldn’t face staying there, seeing the place where they had built their lives together. So he left.” Her voice is steady, but her sadness is unmistakable.
Her smile deepens, though it’s tinged with melancholy. It’s a soft, almost wistful expression, and I know without a doubt that her choice is the right one. “He’s strong,” she adds. “Fair. I think he’d be a good alpha for them.”
I nod, stroking her hair as I take in her words. She speaks with such quiet conviction, her empathy shining through. She’s already endured so much, yet her heart remains open, her compassion unyielding.
I smile softly, pulling her closer. “Ryan it is, then,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. Her choice is sound, and I trust her instincts completely. Together, we’ll see this through.
Punishments
Celine POV
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Walking down the grand staircase with Sebastian at my side feels surreal. The Pack House, with its high ceilings and dark wooden beams, is warm and welcoming in a way I’m not used to. It still feels strange to be here, sleeping in a soft bed, wrapped in blankets, and surrounded by warmth. The faint scent of wood polish and cooked food lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the damp, cold cells I’d grown accustomed to.
Last night was the first time in years I wasn’t jarred awake by the endless noise of prisoners shouting, screaming, or banging on the bars. In the cells, silence was rare, and sleep was a luxury. Morning always came too soon, dragging me into the harsh reality of cooking for everyone else before I’d even eaten myself.
But today was different. I slept in a small luxury that feels almost wrong. As Sebastian guides me toward the bustling kitchen, the murmur of voices grows louder. The Pack’s kitchen is full of people, the warm light from the windows casting long shadows over the rustic wooden tables. The sight makes me hesitate for a moment. This is
new.
Sebastian senses my unease and gently takes my hand, leading me to a table near the corner. His presence is steady, reassuring. As we sit, I glance around, unsure of what to do. Plates of food line the tables, offering more variety than I’ve ever seen. My meals in the past were always the same: stew and stale bread, barely enough to keep me going..
Sebastian seems to notice my hesitation. Without a word, he takes a plate and begins piling food onto it–meats, eggs, fruits, and bread. When he places it in front of me, his golden eyes soften. “Eat, little one,” he whispers. His voice is low and comforting, like the steady hum of a fire on a cold night. I nod and take a small bite, the flavors foreign but pleasant.
My gaze drifts across the room and lands on Joseph. He’s seated at the far end of the table, staring down at his plate with a vacant expression. His shoulders are tense, and the worry in his eyes is unmistakable. He’s thinking about Nischola–I’m certain of it. Leaving her behind, not knowing if she’ll survive, must be eating away at him..
I want to help, though I don’t know how. If they believe I can make a difference, I’ll try, even if it feels daunting. But sitting here, surrounded by the Dragon Pack, the pack I once served no where to be seemn, feels strange. Who cooked this meal? The thought nags at me. I was always the one cooking before.
“The entire Pack needs to be outside and ready to listen,” Sebastian announces, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation.
I glance around and realize most of the werewolf pack aren’t here. Only a few soldiers, the doctor, and Sebastian’s men remain. Beta Shaun steps forward, his broad shoulders squared as he nods in acknowledgment. “I’ll ensure everyone is outside, Your Majesty,” he says before leaving, followed by several others.
As the room empties, the quiet feels heavier. Only Sebastian, Joseph, and I remain now.
Sebastian turns his attention to me, his expression calm but resolute. “We’re going to discuss each person and how they wronged you. Some have already come forward and admitted their actions,” he says, his voice steady yet tinged with determination.
“You decide their punishment, Celine,” Joseph adds, his tone softer but no less serious.
Me? The idea feels overwhelming. I don’t want to punish anyone, even those who hurt me. Not harshly, at least. The thought of wielding that kind of power makes me uncomfortable.
Sebastian stands and offers me his hand. Reluctantly, I take it, and he leads me outside. The air is cool but refreshing, carrying the scent of pine and earth. The Pack members are gathered in the open courtyard, their expressions ranging from nervous to defiant. The large stone building behind us looms like a silent sentinel, its
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imposing presence a reminder of the hierarchy that once ruled here.
I notice some Pack members standing apart from the rest. Their postures are tense, their heads bowed. Are these the ones who confessed? The number surprises me. I had expected so many to come forward, especially not the men. Seeing them standing there, admitting to their crimes including rape sends a chill through me.
Among those who haven’t stepped forward, I recognize faces. Most of them wronged me in smaller ways–name calling, shoving, or taking out their frustrations on me in petty ways. But their actions were rare compared to the others.
“Is that everyone?” Sebastian asks, his voice cutting through the murmurs.
A few people glance toward Selene, who stands near the back of the group, her arms crossed and her expression smug. My stomach twists as I see her. She’s going to act innocent. After everything.
“Gamma Selene,” I say, my voice steady despite the wave of anxiety rising within me.
Her eyes widen in shock before narrowing into a glare. “Are you joking?” she screeches, her voice shrill.
Memories of her cruelty flood back–how she started targeting me within a week of my arrival. Her taunts, the way she shoved and mocked me without provocation. The day she stabbed me with a fork and locked me in a cupboard for hours, knowing I’d be punished for being late to cook. All while she stood by, laughing.
